


Cold Cold Man

by Control_Room



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Affection, Genderqueer Character, Gentle, Other, Sweet, fluster, quiet relationships, shy bertrum, shy character, struggle to show affection, the pomp is a facade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Bertrum is not exactly the best at opening up.
Relationships: Lacie Benton/Bertrum Piedmont
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	Cold Cold Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Parrot_Assbutt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parrot_Assbutt/gifts).



“You didn’t come to bed last night,” Lacie’s voice, disappointed but non accusatory, cut into his morning coffee. Bertrum did not know what to say, so he just nodded. Lacie sat beside him and took his hand in hir own. “Is there a reason for that?”

Bertrum shrugged. Lacie’s hand felt much warmer than his own. 

“You’re sealing up on me again.”

“Am I?”

“Yep.”

“Ah.”

Bertrum stared into his cold coffee. 

He gave hir hand a small, tentative squeeze. She smiled with a sigh. 

“It’s alright.” she kissed his brow, and he wished that he could show his affections as she did, easily and with grace. “I know that you’re not sneakin’ out to be with anyone else.”

“Of course not,” Bertrum murmured, still holding hir hand. It was very warm, very pleasant, calming and grounding. “You know you’re the only one worth my time.”

She snorted. 

“You’re not foolin’ anyone with that pompous act of yours.”

“You’d be surprised,” he told hir, and then they were at work. 

His hand felt cold without hirs within it. 

Subconsciously, he reached for it, his fingers nearly brushing those dark and firm ones, before falling away with the realization of what he had been about to do, staring at the floor in demure embarrassment. 

He was not good at this. 

“You’re very good at that,” Burtrum fumbled with a compliment, Lacie twirling hir wrench each time she twisted in the bolts. She only glanced at him with a raised brow, and Bertrum flushed, looking at his shoes once more. 

“Thanks.”

The blush intensified. 

Eating together was one of the only things Bertrum thought he could handle well, it was easy and natural, conversation simple to maintain. It was easy to not say ‘I love you’, those words difficult to pass through his lips, whether from fear or uncertainty, Bertrum did not know. Lacie, however, said them often, tossing them over hir shoulder and making him incredibly flustered each and every time, wishing he could capture those words and put them in a jar like three beautiful fireflies. 

He tried his best to show his affections, resulting in trinkets and mumbled praises, all being greeted by the same raised brow and slight smile, and sometimes a kiss on the cheek. 

They all resulted in Bertrum blushing like a teenager. 

Lacie was better at showing hir affection, whispering in his ear and kissing his shoulders, wrapping strong arms around a powerful chest, and Bertrum could only dream that he would be brave enough to one day do the same for hir. 

He slipped into hir bed, that night, instead of his own at the end of the hall. 

She let him in with warm arms.

“Lacie?” he whispered, voice trembling.

“Yeah, Bertie?”

“Um, you know….” 

“What do I know?”

“I love you.”

She turned to look at him with amusement, crows feet at the corners of hir eyes.

“I know,” she replied. “I love you, too.”

Bertrum gathered his courage and kissed hir.


End file.
